Denver Was So Two Years Ago
by Fullelven
Summary: Follow Milo through the loss of a love, the return of an old friend, and finding hope again in love.
1. Hello

**Title: Hello**

**Author: CarthsLostPadawan**

**Rating: PG-13 for suicidal themes and language**

**Summary: Milo Pressman deals with the passing of his love, Raineigh McCayle, while staring down the barrel of a 9mm.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Milo, but Raineigh and Gwen are both my characters. This is AU, so please bare with. :)**

The streets of Los Angeles were soaked with water, mini-rivers flooding the sidewalk from the heavy downpour. Most citizens were inside on nights like this, the beaches vacated for local clubs and bars. However, there was one who found solitude in the chaos.

Milo lay on his back within the grass, water washing over his body and drenching his clothes. No matter how hard it poured, the rain had no chance to erase the red stains from tears on his cheeks. He moved, leaning his shoulder against the side of the white marble tombstone, letting his fingers trace over the words.

_Raineigh McCayle_

_May 4, 1987 to April 26, 2007_

_More angel than the world will ever know._

His lips mouthed the writing, his eyes closed. The words were memorized, which they very well should have been with he having demanded –and paid- for the proper burial. Her green-hazel eyes gazed back at him lovingly, hand running down his stubbled cheek. _Chin up, Pressman. The sky's always bluer after a good hard rain. _She whispered, kissing his forehead.

"Damn you!" He cried out, kicking out with his leg as if the physically move the haunting visions away. His tan skin quivered from the damp cold, his lip soon following suit though he couldn't be sure it wasn't from his hysterics. "You had to… you had to be the hero. You couldn't let me help you!"

_There was no hope for me, love. Only in death did I find the final redemption I needed. _The silk voice came again. He sighed heavily, crawling so that his could sit on his haunches and stare at her gravestone.

"My love would have saved you." He whispered, running his fingers down the cold marble, imagining it to be her cheek.

_Love is what got me here in the first place, remember? _The tears slowed for him, his breath slow and deep as he willed himself to calm down.

"I love you." He breathed, his hand trembling.

_No… you don't. But thanks for saying it. Kind of makes the transition less scary. _

Milo's brow furrowed and he chewed his lip absently. He wanted to ask her what she was talking about, how there could be any changes while she was dead, but he already knew what she was talking about. His heart ceased for a moment, his breath hitching in his realization. "You can't leave me."

_You're a big boy, Pressman. Live life, stop dying for a corpse. _She began and he could feel a spot of cold by his ear. _I can't hold your hand forever, it's been a year._

He closed his eyes, feeling her presence become more faint, the tears returning to his eyes to create rivers of their own once more. "I'll follow you… I swear to God! So help me, I will follow you!"

In one movement, he pulled and cocked the 9mm that had been resting in his waistband. _Your place is not with me, Milo. Don't do this to me. _Raineigh's voice pleaded, the last half partially drowned out by a clap of thunder. The rain poured down harder against his skin, his hair slicking down and sticking to his forehead, his eyes stinging as the gel from his brunette locks leaked out into them.

"I love you, damn it!" He began, pointing the barrel to his right temple. The gun was cool to his skin as he pressed it firmly to his skull. "I loved you, even… even after I found out the truth. I wanted to fix you! I would have hid each and every damned body for you!"

_There was no fixing me… this was a cross I needed to bear alone. _She admitted, her voice a soft whisper within his mind now. The thunder roared again, this time more violently. _Don't make yourself just another of my victims._

His chest heaved, his fingers clenching around the handle and trigger as if the tighter he held it, the harder time she would have getting away. He could feel her presence, slipping like sand through his fingers. "This death will be blood on my own hands, not yours!" He growled, almost angered at the fact that she could be so egotistical about his. "I can't do this alone, Raineigh."

_You were never alone, Milo… _Her breath was nothing more than a whisper in the wind now. _I love you…_

His eyes widened as he realized that the voice was gone, that Raineigh had left him once again alone in this cruel place. It was now more than ever that he felt cold, his hand shook, his grip readjusting. "I'm sorry, Raineigh. But I can't."

Had his cell phone not gone off at that minute, he could have pulled the trigger then. In fleeting delusional thought, he was convinced it was her. Picking up the phone with his free hand, he placed it to his other ear with a tear-choked "Raineigh?"

Part of him believed that there would be some sort of white noise phenomenon on the other end, that he would hear the voice of his beloved and she'd tell him that she'd never leave. However, this voice was different, holding an old familiarity to it. "Milo… where are you?"

"I don't need this, Gwen… not now." He growled, closing his eyes and attempting to summon his courage again to do it. In his mind's eye, he could see Raineigh waiting for him on the other side, tear-stained cheeks risen with the smile that graced her full lips.

"Milo… put the gun down. Please, this is not the way." She recited calmly and he wondered how she knew he had a gun at all.

"What the hell do you care, Gwen? You and Doyle would rather my dead, what does it matter if I do it myself!?" He was back to his hysterics, screaming into the phone. The sobs that racked his body nearly shattered him, he couldn't tell if he was even crying anymore. He had nothing left to give.

"Milo… I care. Please, she couldn't have wanted you this way. Milo, put the gun down and come back to CTU. We can talk about this and –"

"This has nothing to do with you! You don't know! You have no idea what the hell it's like going back to my bed knowing that was the last place she slept, the last place we were together, before I lost her!"

"You're never alone, Milo. She'll always love you." Milo froze at these words, unsure if it had been Raineigh who had spoken them just then or Gwen. "Put the gun down…" She whispered in hushed tones behind him. He didn't move, didn't budge. Slowly, she inched closer to him, placing her hand around the barrel.

For a moment, he tightened his grip trying to bring himself to just pull the trigger and make a short job of it, but he couldn't bring himself to do so. The gun slid from his grip, Gwen unarming it and putting it in her waistband behind her. The agonized cries that racked his body then tore at Gwen's heart, making it hard for her to keep up her hardened professional exterior.

"Shhh…" She calmed, awkwardly holding him as he fell back against her long slender legs. He turned, wrapping his arms around them, sobbing into the denim fabric and drenching them with the rain. They stood together like that for a moment, she running her fingers comforting through his hair and holding him as he cried his soul into her jeans.

"How did you…" He began after a long while. Gwen shook her head, her raven pigtail braids dripping with rain water. She looked down at him, smiling softly as she understood his question fine without him finishing it.

"I don't know… I just, I guess I just had a feeling." He gazed up at her, staring into her own jade eyes and realizing for the first time how much she truthfully reminded him of… _Of her. Could that have been what attracted me to Raineigh in the first place?_ "Come on… let me take you home alright?"

He reached out longingly again for the stone, before reluctantly getting to his feet. Stumbling, he had to brace himself on the wet marble to keep from falling back to his knees. Gwen put an arm around his waist, urging him to put his weight on her shorter frame. They walked slowly, solemnly as if going through a funeral procession.

"Gwen," He spoke suddenly, his voice rough from tears.

"Yeah?" She didn't look to him, keeping her eyes straight forward and her shoulders squared. She didn't know why, but at that moment she felt she needed to be strong for him.

"Thank you."

It was a bittersweet moment. It didn't matter anymore that they had never been able to become more than friends in Denver, nor did it matter that they had made enemies in L.A. Though the circumstances were meek, they had reestablished a connection both thought had been buried years ago.

And Milo realized that he truly wasn't alone in this world. With one last bit of faith, he gritted his teeth and forced himself to live through the pain of another day. He hope with every fiber of his being that Raineigh was right.

He'd hit rock bottom, it could only get better.


	2. Seasons Change, People Don't

**Denver Was So Two Years Ago (Chapter 2)**

**Title: Seasons Change, People Don't**

**Fandom: 24**

**Characters: Milo Pressman/Gwen Dushku**

**Table: 5**

**Prompt: Change**

**Word Count:**

**Rating: PG-13**

**Summary: Gwen brings Milo back as promised. But what starts out as routine is bound to get a little out of hand as old memories and scars are prodded.**

"Did Buchanan send you?"

"Huh?" Gwen asked suddenly jerked from her train of thought. She gripped the wheel tighter and turned her lights on to fight off the approaching darkness. Milo kept his eyes locked on some nameless point before him, just outside the windshield.

"Did Buchanan send you?" He repeated finally breaking his gaze to stare at his trembling hands. Gwen brushed her wet bangs from her face and shook her head.

"I saw you leave early, and well as far as I can remember, I've never seen you leave early once," she began as she stopped at the traffic light. She took this time to turn to her former friend, studying his face which had been contorted with a look of internal suffering. "I'm glad I followed the hunch."

"You didn't have to," he replied simply. The light turned green and the car was in motion once again, turning onto the home stretch. Gwen shrugged and Milo shook his head. "No… the way I've treated you since you came here-"

" -has been no worse than the way I've treated you," she finished for him. "Milo, I don't honestly know where things between us fell apart, but it doesn't have to matter anymore. What's in the past is over." She pulled easily into the parking garage, flashing her card and entering a code for access. Her designated spot was not hard to find as she reached it and shut the car off. For a moment, neither moved nor spoke, but sat in uncomfortable silence. It was Gwen patting his knee comfortingly and getting out that broke their strife and headed inside.

Gwendolyn turned her back to Milo as he changed out of his rain-soaked suit and into the CTU sweats she'd brought him. "Doyle," he spoke suddenly, his voice so soft that she wasn't sure if he had spoken at all. He pulled his shirt over his head and moved to stand before her, handing her his wet clothes.

"Come again?" She questioned. He closed the door, his palm flat against it's steel as he momentarily rested his forehead on it.

"You said you didn't know what happened between us. Doyle did. That is where it all changed." He turned around and the look on his face extinguished what firey comeback Gwen had on her tongue.

Several times Gwen opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came to mind. Milo scoffed, brushing his damp hair out of his face with a heavy sigh. "What did he have to do with anything?" Gwen's voice held a foreboding in it, almost as if she didn't want to hear his answer but was unable to keep herself from asking the question.

"Why do you think I left Denver, Gwen? I gave you everything I had, taught you everything I knew. And in the end, you still picked the trigger-happy jerk who had nothing to offer you!" The confession came as an outburst rather than the calm words he'd been shooting for.

"You think just because you showed me a couple of computer codes that I was just going to throw caution to the wind and jump in bed with you?" Something snapped in Gwen then, the reference of Doyle having crossed the line, and she found herself no longer carrying about his delicate feelings.

"Why not? Or does it take knocking off a couple of potential terrorists to get your panties wet?" Milo shot back, his adrenaline pulsing through his veins and making his heart pound in his ears. Gwen slapped him hard across his face, a look of shock coming over both of their eyes soon after.

"Maybe I couldn't bear to see myself as the one to make the pretty boy computer nerd kill himself." There were tears behind her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Milo visibly recoiled from the stabbing remark, however there had been something in her words that took every bit of bite out of him. Gwen herself seemed to be a little take back by the unusual sarcasm and derogative name.

"I loved you," a broken man spoke, the weak tone so uncharacteristic of the twenty-four year-old. Worst yet, he wasn't sure whether he was speaking it to Gwen or to the bit of Raineigh he had just seen within her. Perhaps it was both.

Suddenly he found his back pressing gently against the door, the warmth of another body covering his front. Small slender hands made their way into soft dark locks, pulling face down to level. "I think may have loved you too."

Pale pink lips brushed his own full ones and the resulting spark caused both to slightly jump before returning for a repeat. There was nothing animalistic or rough about the kiss, their mouths both moving together to the tune of longing and need. Two years worth of regret and self-inflicted punishment unraveled and cultivated all in this barely constrained act of passion.

Pulling away, two tears broke free from Gwen's yellow-green eyes before she could stop them and she let her hands fall from his neck and cheek. "I'm sorry," she whispered in a chocked tone. Breaking apart, she pushed past him and disappeared out the door.


	3. I Thought I Loved You

**Denver Was So Two Years Ago** (Chapter 3)  
**Title:** I Thought I Loved You(3)  
**Fandom:** 24  
**Characters:** Milo Pressman/Gwen Dushku  
**Table:** 5  
**Prompt:** Arguement  
**Word Count: **1427  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Summary:** A lot has been said about the act of kissing. What happens when Gwen and Milo find themselves unable to keep themselves from their private displays of affections.

**Disclaimer:** Credit for this line goes to Lady-Bauer.

Eyes stayed locked on the floor during the next days briefing, only breaking away from the invisible spots to gaze lazily around the room and catching another set of curious eyes before returning back to the floor.

"Milo!" Buchanan called for the second time. Milo who had been absently tapping the edge of his paper blinked and nearly fell backward out of his computer chair.

"Sir?" He replied sheepishly, a faint blush creeping up through his cheeks. Buchanan shook his head, though forgave the younger man. He had been through a lot since the incident with Caitlynn Hammond –though legally she was still Caitlynn Hammond, daughter of the former Secretary of Defense Gregory Hammond- last year, but all CTU agents had to face loss sometime in their lives.

"I need you to lead a team here to direct Doyle's troops to the hotel. Agent Dushku will stay here in Chloe's place." Gwen's eyes darted up.

"Excuse me?!" She asked incredulously. She looked to Doyle's face which was a mix of amusement and surprise.

"You two can play nice for awhile. You're the only other qualified agent here who knows computers as well as Pressman does. I need your help where with communications and surveillance," Buchanan ordered. Her jaw dropped, however, Milo cut in before she could protest.

"She'll just be in the way, Buchanan. I can take over Chloe's station, let her go with Doyle." Gwen felt a sudden pang of annoyance at Milo's desperate need to get her away.

"This is a two man team, Doyle is meeting up with Jack who is already at the site. You two will work together, that is an order," He finalized closing his file and picking it up. "Let's get to work."

Many of the others made their way out of the room with a sense of duty as Milo shuffled his feet defeated and Gwen stood staring lost at Doyle. This was the first time since transferring to CTU LA that she and Doyle had been separated from each other on a mission.

Her gentle hand cupped his cheek, looking deep into his gray eyes. "Be careful, please. I won't be there to save your ass," Gwen warned staring him down with a mischievous look of seriousness in her face.

"You save me? I think there's a reason I'm Director and you're just the assistant," Doyle tried to hide his smile of amusement, barely containing it just behind his eyes.

"Really? I seem to remember a bit of role reversal last night."

"Oh gag me with a spork." Milo cried out suddenly wishing his curiosity hadn't made him hang back with the sick couple. Gwen turned around and shot daggers at him with an icy glare.

"What Milo? The idea of actually kissing a female turn your stomach?" She growled at him, a look of fire in her green-hazel eyes. Milo scoffed.

"No, I just thought it was ironic that you considered yourself female."

Had Doyle not been there restraining her, it was very likely that Milo would have been out cold on the floor and they would have been in new need of an Internet Protocol Manager for a few hours. However, getting off without a scratch, he laughed happily to himself and made his way out of the room.

"Ignore Pressman, Gwen. He just gets off on getting you riled up," he calmed as he turned her to face him. She could only hold her anger for a few moments as she locked eyes with him before it dissipated entirely.

"Yeah…" She looked back out through the class windows at Milo who was already assigning Morris to his task. "Be careful, Mike."

He smiled at the sincerity in her tone and leaned down to place a kiss gently on her cheek. However, as she caught Milo's gaze on them she placed both hands on either of his cheeks and directed his kiss to her waiting lips.

A fire of lust and passion unknown to him before came from the normally reserved and gentle woman he loved. Each second drove the kiss that much deeper and intense as she carelessly kissed him blind. Nerve receptors turned off in his brain and suddenly he found himself clutching a black leather chair for leverage and forced them apart.

For a moment, they both just looked at each other, he with surprise and she with a wickedness that somewhat allured him to her. Catching his breath, he blinked a couple times to try and piece together what had brought that on. "What was that-"

"See you when you get back." She smiled and turned to leave. Milo's hated glare only penetrated her until she caught his gaze and he turned back to the paper without a header that Morris had tried to hand in for the umpteenth time.

"I'm picking up peculiar readings. Electrical charges that are uncharacteristic for the coms or normal electrical devises." Gwen said typing away on the keyboard.

"It could be a bomb." Jack said stopping in his tracks. They had evacuated the hotel and carted the people to the Hilton down the block as he and Doyle worked with the bomb squad to find what the threat was.

"It is, Jack. Just a couple rooms up, 342," She noted already ahead of them. There was some silence on the comlinks before the sound of Jack's breath catching in his throat confirmed Gwen's suspicions.

"It's an amateur bomb, I should have it disabled in about three minutes." Doyle said kneeling and immediately getting to work. Jack directed the team down the hall.

"You've got one. A bomb of this caliber wasn't put her as a main attraction. It's a distraction from something really big." Milo made his way over to Gwen's station and bent down to watch her closely.

"Yes?" She questioned annoyed as his breath warmed her neck. She closed her eyes against the slight tingling and attempted to force herself to concentrate.

"So you're just going to bark out orders and not notify me of any of your findings?" Milo grumbled annoyed.

"Got it!" Doyle called having disarmed the bomb rather easily. Jack had waited for him, searching the room for this and that as he worked.

"Good. Keep searching and tell me if you find any other strange readings." Gwen took the headset off and set it on the desk, looking up at Milo with stoic eyes. "Now, what was it that you were saying?"

If looks could kill, she would have been well on her way to pushing up the daisies. He didn't speak, but motioned for her to follow him out from the main floor and into the stairwell.

"What the hell are you doing out there? Do you think you're cute trying to under mind my command like that?" He questioned with barely contained anger. She crossed her arms, fairly happy with the effect she'd had on him.

"Should I? Think me being in charge would get your jollies off? Never took you for being that kind of man, Pressman," Gwen raised an eyebrow, a look that caused Milo's blood to boil with frustration.

"There's a chain of command, _Gwen_-"

"-screw the chain of command, Milo! If you weren't such a freaking prick all the-"

The words never finished their trek from her mouth as her was covered by Milo's. Inwardly she suddenly wondered if her lips would soon chap from all the kissing, however any other thought that tried to come was stifled by the heated passion of his hand on the small of her back, his other in her hair.

Things had never been so raw, so needy, that she couldn't see straight… not with Doyle they hadn't. Milo unlocked something so untamed within her that it was nearly borderline primal. Her eyes darkened with uncontainable lust as she bit teasingly on his bottom lip.

"Excuse me, guys."

It had happened so quickly, Gwen wasn't sure if Morris had caught them or if they had stopped sometime before. Only now she felt him catch her as Milo flew out of the stairwell and into action.

_They hadn't caught the other bomb in time._


End file.
